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Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Writing is a
chore. Writing for a geophysical audience about research to be published as a
manuscript is not meant to be the fun part. Developing the idea for the
research, honing your skills within new and diverse areas of science,
developing equations using physical laws in order to predict an expected
outcome, collecting data in spectacular locations, analyzing/interpreting the
data to develop the results, and comparing the results to the expected outcome
– all of this = excitement, fun, and constant enjoyment. In order to communicate my findings with my
colleagues in science, it is critical to write. Hence, when I am in the final stages of the
gratifying research process, writing begins in my head, with short notes, maybe
even sentences, expressing thoughts toward the final manuscript. The key for me is simple: 1) do not stop
writing, 2) carve out 6+ hours to write, and 3) fake a deadline.I write best when I have enough time to
formulate coherent thoughts and when I’m under pressure - or at least I write
under pressure.When I’m not under
pressure or have only a short amount of time, I plod along, writing quick notes
and only portions of the complete manuscript, or I switch to a new project in
order start the next thrill ride.

Currently, I
am on the west coast of New Zealand working on data collection during the day
and data analysis/interpretation at night to examine the subsurface of an
unexplored glacial feature - icy debris fan - that stores and translates
material to the rapidly retreating glaciers. In addition to this "cool" research,
I am writing this blog (and giving myself a deadline of tonight), and have
several other active projects in various stages of the writing process. Several are in the late intermediate period,
where data has been collected and analysed (yes, in Kiwi - and British - you
spell this with a "s"), and I return to each in short (<20 min)
intervals and write down notes or different ways I can rephrase aspects. I have
one manuscript in final stages of publication, and the next manuscript in the
queue is waiting for a solid block of dedicated time.

In addition
to my three listed tricks, I provide students who conduct research with me or
are looking to improve their writing process several further suggestions: 1)
write early, write often, don't delete - just make a new version until you have
fleshed out the particulars, 2) READ OUT LOUD. Ideally, you do this step a
couple weeks after finalizing a draft – my short term memory will insert words
that aren't there if I read a draft silently or when it is too fresh in my
mind. I have to read out loud or the writing will be rubbish - or close
to it.

Every form of
communication is important, but the more I gain experience communicating to
clients, students, colleagues, administrators, the public, and my children, the
more I realize that writing is different. Writing is expected to be
polished, not abbreviated or left unclear. Eventually, as you gain experience/ voice,
even your spoken words are expected to be polished. And the best way I have
been able to improve my ability to speak in front of an audience (such as a
class or some clients looking for an underground storage tank or sinkhole) is
by improving my written communication.

Monday, March 9, 2015

Who I am as a writer has
changed over the years based on my career, but more so as a result of whom my
audience is at any given time. Something that I feel I was able to grasp at
Bucknell, when I was writing every day for different classes, was that clear
communication is paramount. I know that this sounds a bit cold and clinical,
but depending on his/her audience, a writer has to change vocabulary,
structure, organization and/or format. Even the most informal writing is
ineffective if your reader cannot understand what you are trying to say.

When I was at Bucknell, my
English essays were far different from the short stories I wrote in my creative
writing class. Not only because they were for a different purpose but also
because they were for a different audience. My social science essays needed to
clearly communicate in the language of that discipline. When I went to graduate
school for education, I had to write lesson plans that communicated to my
cooperating teacher and to the professors at school while also teaching my
students. As a teacher, I had to write test questions that were clear enough to
elicit intelligent responses from my students and also answer my question. I
made it clear to my students that clear communication and audience focus was
important to me. I responded to student complaints that their history or
science teacher was asking for different formatting for essay references by
reminding them that different audiences and purposes require different styles
of writing, different ways of communicating. (Not that they liked that very
much, but I do think most of them eventually understood what I meant.)

Communication, one can see,
is the reason that we write. We write to share knowledge, to express emotion,
to elicit a response from our readers.

After eight years at home
and doing little more writing than emails and an occasional poem or story for a
now defunct informal writing group, I went back to school to become a Physical
Therapist Assistant (PTA). I had been out of the classroom as a teacher for
eight years and out as a student for twice that. I was going to have to learn
to communicate in the language of the medical professional and that was a bit
intimidating. I clung to my focus on audience and purpose, and that focus
helped me to tackle a technical writing class and then move on to writing daily
patient notes when I got my first job out of school.

As a PTA, I write daily
notes about patients that have to quickly and clearly convey information about
that patient’s symptoms, progress, exercise program, pain level, etc., so that
any therapist who sees that patient after me can quickly know just where that
patient left off and what needs to be done to best care for him or her in the
future. I may not be available for questions, so I have to be clear and, as
time is a factor with appointment scheduling, concise. Again, it all comes down
to clear communication.

I don’t get the opportunity
to write for fun very much, but I feel that I am truly blessed to feel so
confident when wading through the sea of different kinds of writing. I think
that my writing experiences at Bucknell were varied and not always easy, and tackling
them gave me the writing confidence that I have today. I love to craft a piece
of writing with an audience in mind; it feels (at the risk of sounding too
sentimental about writing) almost like creating a personalized gift for that
audience. Thank you, Bucknell for giving me one more writing assignment. This
is my first blog post… another new form of writing to add to my ever growing
list.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Amanda Ayers '14, Research Assistant at Keybridge Public Policy Economics

Hi
all! I’m Amanda, Bucknell grad (’14) and former Peer Writing Consultant. I
began working last June for a small public policy economics consulting firm located
in Washington, DC. I was excited to be
approached to submit a piece to Bucknell Writes because the concept of the blog
excited me, and I knew it would be a great opportunity to reflect on the work
I’ve done out of school for the last 9(ish) months – more specifically, how my
Bucknell experience, particularly as it relates to writing, has shaped the way
I think and work here.

To
put it broadly, my current role is to provide preliminary research and analysis
– both qualitative and quantitative – to my superiors on a wide range of emerging
economic and public policy issues. The
more quantitative assignments I’m given range from processing and analyzing data
on the efficacy of an anti-obesity program to narrowing a wide pool of academic
studies and public datasets in order to order to assign a dollar value to the
loss that cyber attacks impose to society. Examples of the more qualitative-heavy work
I’ve done include tackling the first draft of a literature review to
synthesizing responses from hundreds of interviews we’ve conducted.

There
are a couple salient features of the work that my firm delivers – which have
become increasingly evident over the last few months.In our capacity as consultants, the “product”
we deliver is high-quality, polished material that distills complicated issues to
our clients in a way that is both intuitive and, perhaps more important, actionable.When I say intuitive, I mean our work needs
to be methodical and easily understood by audiences that are both familiar and
unfamiliar with the topic at hand. By “actionable”, I mean that our client
needs to not only be able to make sense of what we give them, but also be able
to easily use and act on the information - whether that be to take our material
the Hill as part of a lobbying effort, present it in front of key business
stakeholders, or circulate it internally within their organization.

Regardless
of whether we’re using words or numbers -- or even the medium with which we
choose to share the information (a slide deck, a word document, a spreadsheet)
-- everything we deliver has a narrative and unfolds a cohesive argument.For example, one of the most popular ways
that we present information is through reading decks; rather than give a client
a 5 page report, we deliver our information visually, using PowerPoint slides
as our “canvas”.We call them “reading
decks” because rather than be presented, they are meant to be printed and circulated,
communicating the same information that a document/PDF could, but in a much
more visual and engaging manner. Each
slide contains what we call the “horizontal logic” – an ideally pithy, 2-sentence-max
overview of what the graphs/visuals/text in the body of each slide are
supporting, located at the top. In
theory, should we string all of the horizontal logics in the presentation together,
they should form a cohesive, skeletal outline of the story we’re trying to tell.

When
I was first learning to build out a deck like this, my boss suggested the
following process: (1) write the horizontal logic of each slide first to
produce a general roadmap of my argument; (2) support each logic in the body of
the slide with the quantitative and qualitative data we’ve gathered, and (3) when
I’m almost finished, interpret only the body of each slide and write down what
it is communicating; if what I’ve written down relays the same idea as the
logic I had previously written, I know my argument is sound and effectively
supported.As soon as he imparted this
advice, I could not help but realize how reminiscent this was of my favorite consulting
technique, which I used throughout my time at Bucknell on both my own work and with
peers during sessions in the Writing Center: reverse outlining.This is an exercise requiring a writer to read
each paragraph of his/her paper, succinctly summarize the essential purpose of each
paragraph in 1-2 sentences, and then string those sentences together.A coherent string of sentences is typically a
clear indication that the paper is well developed, supported, and structured.

I
was interviewed as part of a video produced by the Writing Center my senior
year – in it, I made note of the fact that by virtue of working there for 3
years and helping my peers, I had simultaneously grown tremendously as a writer
myself. I believe that the anecdote I share above is testament to that growth.With that being said, there are a number of
other writing concepts and strategies we frequently discussed in the Writing
Center that have permeated into my writing process now, proving themselves over
again as invaluable in the “real world”.

1)Writing is a process. Writing
takes time and drafts are allowed to be messy; as a writer, my best ideas often
come about when I’m not even actively working on an assignment, and always
because I’ve allowed sufficient time for my argument to gel. I find this even
more evident now than I did at Bucknell – rushed writing (for me anyway) results
in half-baked ideas.

2)Writing is collaborative. Working
in a more collaborative environment has necessitated that I refine my writing process
– particularly the early stages. The way that our office is structured, I take
the first cut at an assignment, present it to my superior(s), s/he offers me
feedback, I implement, and then we iterate until we get the piece where it
needs to be. I almost wish I had done
more group writing assignments at Bucknell because when I started my job, I was
so used to my own messy brainstorming (which often consisted of a bunch of
ideas floating around in my head) -- only to find that no one else could
understand it because I hadn’t been accustomed to ever sharing anything but
near-final drafts.

3)Understanding audience is more important than ever.When
I was working in the Writing Center, I often came across papers that exhibited
the so-called “data dump” – whereby the writer would attempt to demonstrate
everything s/he knew about a topic for a professor, whether or every point necessarily
strengthened their argument or fit cohesively into the draft as a whole.What I’ve come to realize in my job now is
the importance of sharing information both selectively and intentionally. Whereas a professor is often obligated to read
every word you write in order to assign a grade, a client simply doesn’t have
the time. Writing in the real world
requires brevity and a keen sense of audience - both the client’s position on
the topic you’re writing about and how they plan to use the information you’re delivering.My favorite type of feedback is receiving
questions that probe why I choose to do things the way I do – why I choose to
(not) include something, why I use a certain word, phrase, sentence, etc. over
another – because it forces me to be more intentional.

4)Reading aloud is
still the best proofreading technique!

5)The more I read, the better writer I become!

6)Writingcan be therapeutic. Writing isn’t a chore that I set aside for
work only – I journal frequently, for example, and find that the benefits are
immense. My mind often races faster than my hand can keep up, which forces me
to really reflect on one thing at a time and – at least for that moment – not bite
off more than I can chew, so to speak.

7)Medium doesn’t matter.What’s become more apparent now is that medium doesn’t matter,
as evidenced by the reading decks that I discussed above.I loved that the Writing Center offered to
help students on more than just papers – presentations, for example - and hope
that it can continue to clear up the misconception on campus that writing needs
to be confined to paper (or, for students just entering Bucknell, a 5 paragraph
essay). In my job, we’re often telling a story with charts and numbers, and
it’s no less of an argument than a traditional paper is – and certainly not two
sided (another common misconception).

About Me

Everybody at Bucknell writes--students, faculty, staff, Bio majors, engineers, historians, poets, chemists. Alumni write, too. All kinds of writing matter here.
Bucknell Writes has two main goals: to highlight writers and writing at Bucknell and to share ideas and information that may interest our community.
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